Clauster Particles

Have you ever sat in a large empty room and felt the weight of the air around you? Have you ever felt like the walls were closing in and you were outside? I have.

I have often wondered if there was a physical explanation for that or was I mentally struggling with something. It almost feels like the small dust particles around me are enjoying their floating moments but once I'm in their range they are doomed to being sucked in by my presence. I can just imagine these little dust particles sitting on my shoulders with their elbows on their knees and their heads in their hands waiting for me to send them on their merry way. It's like they are all waiting together for the permission to take flight. And here I am, feeling itchy and uncomfortable. I'm perpetuating the weight by continually thinking about myself and my problems, therefor sucking more particles in and forgetting that those around me may have their own joys and their own sadness's.

I can just imagine walking to the park with those particles still sitting on my shoulders checking their wrist watches from time to time. I can imagine their disappointment when they look over at the particles around my kids. Those particles are dancing and laughing, so happy to have been in the path of such a happy Ora. They are not stuck on the shoulders of a self-centered Debbi Downer. They are more then happy to stay close to the dirt rolling, Frisbee throwing, jumping, giggling child.

I guess I need to decide what kind of particles I want around me today. Do I want the kind that are sentences to an endless waiting room or the kind that want to be around me laughing and singing with happiness?

Spare me!

Could you please just spare me? Can you spare me from having to make the tough decisions? Can you spare me from stepping outside my comfort zone? Can you spare me from getting knocked down?

Sometimes when I'm frustrated with my kids or angry about our ever-limbo state, I have to take a step back and ask myself why. An irritating word that leaves an emotional scare is not worth the cost of standing alone while others participate in life. As I was looking at this picture, I thought about how the pins that get knocked down must react. Just go with me on this... Crack, Bam, Clatter... that sounds like laughter to me. Just imagine those pins 'rolling' on the ground laughing while the spare stands there snobby and stubborn. The stubborn one is picked up while the others are ushered back into another room laughing a playing another game called, "Where do I get to stand this time?" The stubborn one stands again in the same spot ready to avoid another shot. Yesss, he thinks, I didn't get hit. What fun was that? The other pins are giggling in the back knowing they will have another chance to laugh until they are rolling on the floor.

I know it's a stretch, but when it comes to having the most fun, I think it's those giggling pins. They know they are going to get right back up again and maybe with a different perspective.

Food for thought :)

Switch it

It's that time of year again! No, it's not the only time I do laundry, but it feels like it piles up. It's that time when the kids are wearing the same shorts and short sleeve shirt every other day because all their summer clothes are packed away. It's that time when you realize you need a change and it's going to take some focused, out of the ordinary, work. It almost makes you cry because you have to drag out the summer clothes and neatly fold and put away the winter clothes. And in good ol' Arizona, it means it's going to get hot, hot, hot!

But you know, sometimes you have to switch things up to make a your life work. From time to time life takes a little rearranging or you might find yourself not only uncomfortable but sweating your butt off. You may even find some good memorize along the way. I guess I'd better get to switching those clothes :)

Wishy Washy

Why is it that when you wash your car on a busy Friday afternoon with tons of cars, the cleaners seem to get every detail but when you go first thing in the morning (when it's half price) and you are the only car it takes twice as long and they do a sloppy job? Why is that? As much as I want to complain about such minor occurrences, I can't help but notice the parallel in my life.

The days when there is barely enough time to sit on the pot and I'm running from here to there, are the days that I can look back on and be quit impressed with what I have done. Then there are the days when, I have one phone call I have to make or one tiny errand that must be done and I find myself slugging (and I mean the slimy kind of slugging) through a dull, diluted wish washy day. I look back at that day and can't remember what I did!

So go ahead and have a sloppy day now and then but just be ready to get a wet rag in the face because those cars are lining up and just when you think you can get away with sloppy, you're back to focusing on the details :)

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

What could be more boring and mundane then shampoo? Well, maybe the instructions on how to use it. Lather, rinse, repeat.

If you haven't already noticed, I love to take an idea and apply it to life and morals. It's just a thing I have. A friend of a friend mentioned how monotonous life can get, especially when talking about good vs. evil. Nothing is more cliche then good triumphing over bad but it is the structure of life. There are endless ways to look at it.

So what does this have to do with shampoo? Well, no matter how clean we get our hair, we are just going to have to do it again. No matter how much we lather and rinse, we will have to repeat. There will always be a new, cool looking bottle with the same stuff in it. But it always comes back to the basics, whether it's making the right choice between gossiping or keeping it to ourselves, cutting someone off in our car or being more patient, or creating a home of frustration and anxiety or finding the peace within to share. Finding the goodness in the mundane is what it's all about.

And don't forget, you have a nice clean head to think with when facing the real challenges of good vs. evil :)

Photo by Clean Wal-Mart

Being Noticed

I'm not sure why, but I have a fear of being noticed. I struggle with compliments, watching eyes and the ever-unseen judgements people may pass on me.


The other day I realized a possible tribute to this insecurity. When I was about the age of 9 or 10, I was deeply involved in ballet. I had a part in the Nutcracker and I was very confident in my growing abilities, despite being one of the youngest. One day, during a long Saturday practice, I had an experience that would be burned into my brain even to this day. We had been split up into groups to practice our parts. I was in the blue group. The instructor called out for the blue group to take a water break. We quickly ran to line up at the drinking fountain where I was close to the front. As I waited, I suddenly realized to my horror that I was in line with the red group and they were realizing the same thing. I looked back and saw everyone looking at me with disdain. One girl said, "What are you doing? Your group is dancing right now." I ran back into the studio as fast as I could to find the music had already begun. I quickly jumped into my group that was in the middle of the floor, stuttering a little to catch up. "Stop the music!" I heard the instructor yell. All of us stopped and got into first position. The instructor called to me and said, "Come here right now." No one was moving, no one was allowing a sound. At this point, I only remember the instructor yelling at me in my face as the whole room, filled with ballet dancers I had looked up to for years now, stood watching. My heart still races when I think about it.


I don't blame the instructor, I don't blame the dancers, and I don't even blame myself. But somehow I have carried it with me. In times when my self-esteem is small, I back away from even the edge of the spotlight. I do whatever it takes to not be noticed no matter how small.


But today I make a conscience effort to warm myself by the spotlight. And if I happen to be in it, I must remember that the spotlight is not for others to see me but for me to see myself in a better light. I must appreciate being noticed...








Photo by nattydreadd

For Crying Out Loud!

I love to laugh, ah ha ha ha! Loud and long and clear. The more I laugh, ah ha ha ha. The more I'm a merrier me!

It's true. But I think more importantly, I love to find humor where ever it can lurk. Under the covers, in the kitchen, outside or in a car.

I thought today, What would my world be like without humor? I think my brain would be stuck in a perpetual state of dullness. Bland, Alfredo, dullness.

There are times when I get too serious, too caught up in saying the right thing, doing the right thing, following the path of plain. Sure there is stress to sprinkle in, pms to suffer through, and fits to be endured. But what if the stress was from being afraid I might fall on my face? What if the pms could be a way for me to express my loathing for people who scrunch their noses? How about watching your own child throw a fit and lose all feeling in their extremities? Can you see how these things might just be funny?

Well, I don't always find the humor. But I hope I do today. I can laugh at my own idiosyncrasies, they are called idiosyncrasies for heaven sakes. Ahaha, that's funny. For crying out loud, I wanna find that humor :)

Photo by cindy47452

Fear of Getting Hurt

I am afraid of getting hurt! When I was younger, I put a lot into my friendships. I tried to build the friends that I had. I tried to encourage, help, and make them laugh. I ran with them, jumped with them, played with them. And I think they did the same for me. But now I'm older. I have a life of my very own, derived from those traits I used when I was young. But where are my friends? Where are those nights when I cried on my friends shoulders, laughed at my friends jokes and talked endlessly about the wonders of life? Those times when the door to my heart was wide open and I was vulnerable and naive. My heart was untested, unbruised, and unscarred. There were no sharp pains at the thought of a lost friend.

But today, there are sharp pains, bruises, and scars. Today there is a door that is closed, tattered and worn. Why would I open that door today? Why would I expose what has already been exposed? Why would I ask to be bruised where I have already been bruised? What if it is the last hit this heart can take? What if I am not strong enough to handle the next blow? I can keep going down this hopeless path or I can face my fear and see what happens.

I wonder if I can find healing? I wonder if I can find opposition to the pain? I think I can turn the knob for my husband. I can creek the door open for my kids. I can pull the door open for my sisters and my parents. That way I can have the door open for my friends.

I think it is time to face my fear of getting hurt...

Photo by Gabriela Camerotti

Clown

I hate clowns! In fact, I have a fear of clowns. So is that clownerphobic? Ha! But why do they scare me? Is it because they share a fundamental similarity to myself? Is it because they live behind a mask? A mask they can't take off no matter how hard they scrub. Or maybe it's a mask they choose to keep on?

A week ago, I was challenged to face my fears. To stare down that round red nose, to scan over that white face, and look deep into those sad eyes. What I see is me. I'm afraid to admit my flaws, my insecurities, my doubts. In that way, I am very much a clown.

Photo by kT LindSAy